


A dreadful discussion

by TheLivingParadox



Series: Drafts and ideas, mostly homework [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28984557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLivingParadox/pseuds/TheLivingParadox
Summary: He wasn't mad...was he?
Series: Drafts and ideas, mostly homework [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126133





	A dreadful discussion

**Author's Note:**

> My English homework. 
> 
> Disclaimer: All of the characters aren't and are kinda still mine. It's also my first work and I don't like that. Might add some visual art.

A familiar voice rang in the room, the notes so sweet that it could make him sick, that voice, he knew it was his, he recognized it but the tone was so foreign that he couldn't see the person in front of him as the one he grew up with.

Clyde was sitting, smiling like he was happy to see him but he knew it wasn't the whole truth. They were always seen together so he knew that something was wrong: the smile was slightly forced, and dull eyes devoid of life were staring back at his.

The man the he once liked opened his mouth, letting the words fall out of it like a river, toneless and empty like a lake empty of its flora and fauna, devoid of life, devoid of colour, like his red, red eyes. They were so dark.

"I'm not mad Julien," The albino man smiled at the person across from him, "I may be sick but I'm not mad, I'm sure of it." At the disbelieving expression of the blue eyed man, he added, "Don't you believe me?" The other shook his head. 

The smile on his face didn't waver. It was the same smile he had since the beginning of the discussion they had in the dining room: a sickly sweet smile.

The person, Julien, swallowed the lump that was clogging in his throat, hindering him from talking, then coughed a little to clean his voice before he firmly said, "It's quite hard to believe this." He didn't want to say it, at least not like that but he had to. It was for him.

The subject of the discussion had his expression change from politely smiling to smiling in a resigned manner. He didn't like that expression.

"Ah," He sighed, "I know. It's hard to believe this, right? Especially since I affirm that I can feel how people are deep inside; if they are happy or sad. But I can feel it, I am sure, I am certain. They were all sad, every single one of them were unhappy, I know it."

The brown haired man slowly inhaled, then asked the decisive question, "Why did you do this?" He slowly averted his gaze from the person in front of him, dreading the answer.

"They were sick, all of them were sick of living and I just gave them reprieve from the harsh and cold life that destiny gave them. I just helped them. Don't you see it my friend? We're both doctors and yet you cannot see that I did this for them, it was for the best." He chuckled. The man across from him repressed a shiver.

"Please tell me Clyde," He finally had the courage to raise his eyes to look at the one he once considered as his friend, somebody he was slightly scared of. "Tell me why did you kill them?" His voice finally cracked.

Julien didn't want to be in front of the white haired former psychiatrist, his _friend_ , _former_ friend; he didn't want to ask, he didn't want answers, and yet he had to, he had to know; it would break him but he had to, he couldn't back down.

"I didn't kill them," He whispered softly, "I simply ended their suffering. They were so scared, so hurt, so I helped them. They couldn't heal. Just like you they were so so tired-"

"Cut that crap!" The chair banged on the floor as he brutally stood up, "They were recovering! They were healing. They were..." He sobbed. Tears fell from his eyes, he hated this, he hated interrogating his friend. He completely abhorred that. It made him sad.

His knees buckled from his weight making him fall on them. He stayed on the ground for some time, completely defeated, then brought his legs against himself, hugging his knees as he hid his face inside of them. 

He felt arms around him, kind, inviting, soft arms, gently hugging him. An apology was murmured against his ear, in a soft tone and voice that belonged to his friend, then pain, lots of it; after that, he felt nothing.


End file.
